Future Dreams
by The TwilightTwin
Summary: Bella is having nightmares of a certain someone and herself. She has never met this peson though. Will these nighmares come to pass? Will she meet this certain someone?
1. Chapter 1

Future Dreams

The wind whipped through my hair as it tore along the rocky shore. There was nowhere else to go. My life, my beautiful, full life, was at its end. So much that I wanted to do still lay in my path. But they were getting closer and my steps lay beyond the rocky cliff. The salty air of the ocean filled my mind and for one second, I thought everything would be alright. I would not be here, my life would be fine and most of all Edward would be at my side. Then that moment passed and I jumped.

* * *

I woke up, drenched with fear and revulsion. _It was only a dream, it was only a dream, _I thought doubtfully to myself. The same dream, repeated over and over in my head, each night, was starting to become expected. Each night, I dreaded going to sleep, knowing that I would wake up sick and depressed. The people, always behind me, never quite catching up, haunted my nightmares so vividly that they only made the dream worse. I had no idea whether it was reality or not.

I sighed and rolled over hoping to catch a few more minutes of sleep, given that it was only 4:00 in the morning. Then, remembering the dream, shuddered and gave up on the whole idea.

I sat up and stretched, groaning inwardly as my bones creaked. Must have been sleeping longer than I thought. I made my way out of my bedroom and into the kitchen, the only other room in the flat I lived in. Opening the cupboard, I started pulling together different foods for my breakfast.

The radio was playing a tune that I, for once, was not listening to. My mind was preoccupied enough with out some mindless garble filling it in. The strangest thing about my dream was that I did not even know an Edward. Or an Ed, Eddie or anyone else you could associate the name with. Hell, the only boys I knew were my father, brother and my boss. And my boss was not called Edward.

I ate breakfast absentmindedly, neither tasting nor smelling the food. What a mess my life was. I was scared by a dream, for crying out loud!

My mum had died when I was eight and my father basically became a mute after that, my brother not much better. After highschool, I moved to this flat, if you could call it that, and started my life as a uni student. I had always wanted to study forensics. I graduated from Uni and began my new role as a forensic scientist.

The only thing was, no one liked me. Not even my father, who had excluded me from the moment I was born, always wanting a son. It seemed like my mother was the only one who had loved me. The she went and my life no longer mattered to anyone. Anyone but myself.

I glanced at the clock at and was surprised it was 5:00 already. Still leaving plenty of time before I had to get to work, I dawdled back to my room. On my single bed, the sheets had twisted over themselves from a night's worth of turning. Seeing this, the dream threatened to form in my head again. I shook my head, trying in vain to clear that thought. Naturally, as most things did for me now, it didn't work.

The images flashed one after the other; my long dark hair blowing in the wind, the people creeping up on me and finally, me jumping of the cliff.

"No!" I cried in terror, trying to once again clear my head. This time it worked better but I could still feel the threads of the nightmare, clinging.

Ignoring this, I tried to walk over to my closet without seeing my bed. The attempted was doomed before I even started since my closet was across the bed from where I stood. Well, at least I had tried.

I pulled open the doors of the closet with more force than necessary and in the same action grabbed some jeans from a pile and a crushed red blouse hanging from a hook. I dressed hurriedly, longing to be out of the flat. I picked my hair band off my workbench, using it to tie my waist-length hair behind my shoulders. My skin, albino even though I live in the city of sun, LA, in comparison with my dark chocolate hair set off a stunning appearance on some days. Today, however, I could not pull it off. The droop of my full mouth and the tiredness in my large, brown eyes completely destroyed whatever illusion my looks and clothes made.

Snatching up my keys and wallet, I almost ran out of the flat, sighing in relief when I locked the door. Another day of work before I had to face my bed. Bliss. Some people would call me crazy.

Frowning at that last thought, I walked down the corridor to the lift and pressed the button. While I waited patiently for the lift to come, I quietly sang a song that my mother had taught me before she died.

_Quietly, now we sing a song,_

_Laughing, laughing all day long,_

_Loudly, now, we gasp with glee,_

_Another day is free, free, free!_

Until the dreams began, I never understood what 'Another day is free, free, free!' meant. Now I knew, of course. Another day to be free, another day to do what I want. Then another night to be held hostage in my unconsciousness, another night to be…

"NO!" I cried with more force than in the bedroom. A couple walking along the corridor shot me a strange glance and picked up their paces until they were safely round the corner.

The lift arrived at that moment and I gladly stumbled into it, afraid of other passer-bys.

It moved slowly, but I was grateful for the time. I needed to organise my thoughts and move the dreams to the back of my head. Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I tried to think positive. I almost managed it, too.

The lift binged open on level three, two floors above my own stop. A happy young family clambered in. I was instantly jealous of the small trio but I could not

find it in myself to be angry at the proud parent's daughter. Envious as I was, I could not help but love her small rounded face with her cute little dimples. She was lucky to be able to do what she wanted without being held hostage by her own dreams. Hostage, some people would say, is a too drastic word. I, however, could not find a better explanation.

The family left the lift on level two, the little girl bouncing happily out of the elevator, not knowing how lucky she was. Another sigh of envy. Now I really knew my life was screwed up. To be jealous of a four-year-old was really low on the life standards.

Finally, the lift opened on my floor, level one. I tripped on the elevator's doorway, sending the paperwork in my arms flying. The receptionist behind the lobby desk looked torn between helping me and leaving his post. With I red face, I quickly I gathered up my things to avoid a conversation. Limping pass the receptionist, I muttered an obscured apology and hobbled towards the lobby doors. The receptionist stopped looking torn and returned to sorting out whatever he was doing before I came. A good sign.

My car was parked in the most inconvenient place possible, right in the most distant park. The walk was tedious by itself, without the sturdy paper work and the weight of the nightmare heavy on my mind.

The sun was beating down, heating my neck and shoulders. The just-bearable hotness made the air shimmer with heatwaves. I stumbled to my silver Corolla and blindly opened the door, welcoming the scent of my car. I twisted the keys in the ignition and started reversing to the door of the car park.

Sighing with relief, I turned on the fan and rolled down the windows. The fresh air cooled my body and my mind down, forcing me to allow the cool air to take over my thoughts completely. I needed that.

I drove towards my laboratory, relaxing in my coldish (as cold as it was going to get, anyway) car. The traffic was fast-flowing, so I moved towards my work rather quickly. It was just 7:00, right on schedule. My boss, Mr Newton, was very picky about what time I arrived, even if I came to work before him. His deputy boss, Ms Mallory, was the adult equivalent of a teacher's pet. She was always following him around. Anyway, no matter if I was only one minute late, you could always rely on her to prattle to Mr Newton if I was late.

I turned my car into my work's campus and park in my specially reserved place. Taking the keys, I picked up my paperwork and headed towards the labs. As soon as I entered I had the large, red face of my boss pushed into my line of sight. He asked me in his scratchy, nasal voice.

"Ms Swan, have you finished that report yet? You know it was due today."

Crap! I'd completely forgotten about it. It was supposed to be 5000 words and he had only given it to me yesterday. With the dreams, I knew I had know hope in getting it done, but he had said he would fire me if I didn't take it and frankly, I needed the money. He saw my panic and his mouth twisted into nasty smile.

Well, I might as well try and talk my way out of this.

"No, Mr Newton, I have not finished it. You only gave it to me yesterday and I had no time to work on it. "

"What? I gave you plenty of time."

A day? I would hardly call that plenty. But there was no use arguing with my boss.

"Fine. I will have it in tomorrow."

"Good. Now go to Lab D9 and I will expect that report tomorrow!"

I was turning towards my assigned lab when I felt a small hand on my shoulder. I sighed. My co-worker, Angela, had heard the whole exchange between me and Mr Newton. She was trying to comfort me.

"It's alright. You can copy some of my notes. I did a similar report last term."

I smiled. Angela always knew what to say.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Don't worry. "

"Okay. Thanks."

"No problem. You will have to copy after your shift, though. I've been assigned to work in Lab D1."

Damn Mr Newton. Now I would have to stay after work if I wanted to get that report done. Ah well. It was better than having to start the report from scratch.

Angela walked off in the opposite direction. I started to walk towards my Lab. Then my boss yelled as an after thought,

"If I see you copying from someone else, you are to start the report again. Understood?"

"Yes, Mr Newton."

I sighed quietly as he turned to harass another poor worker. It was going to be a long, hard day.


	2. A Phonecall

**AN: Sorry for not writing any other ANs but we are only 12 and are new to this whole thing. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter! Were not going to beg for reviews, but we wouldn't mind some. Enjoy! **

2. Phonecall

The coffee tasted strange, I decided. I took another sip and winced. Yep, definitely strange. The rich, warm aroma of coffee was replaced with a strange, bitter scent of burning. How strange. Coffee couldn't burn, could it?

I sighed and turned another page of the magazine I was reading. Actually, looking at would be a better word. The rubbish that the _Who _magazine provided was crazy. Britney Spears, pregnant? I mean, come on! No boy would even kiss Britney the way she was now. But then again, you never know with Britts.

I finished 'reading' my source of gossip and drained my coffee. I crawled my way out of the shop. Not literally, but close enough. Dawdling to my car, unwilling to greet my apartment, I turned the engine on and started cooling down my Chevy. With the coolness blowing in my face, I remembered what it felt like to have sea air tugging my hair back, the lightness of it brushing my bare fore arms… Damn it! I was doing so well. Not recalling the dream all day was an achievement but thinking about it now was definitely defying my mind. Remembering the nightmare now, my body involuntarily shivered. I sighed again. I was doing that a lot lately. I think it's a sign of depression. Oh well. It's not like my life really mattered anyway.

Okay, that was definitely a sign of depression. My stressful day, with trying to decipher a particularly difficult investigation and my boss (shudder), was not helping my depressive mood. The dreams were pulling me down, emotionally and physically. My cheeks no longer had a warm healthy glow to their complexion. Instead my face, even tanned as it was, looked thin and pale. The purple bags under my eyes were obvious and my eyes themselves, who used to hold a certain charm, did not shine anymore.

And inside myself, I was waging a silent war. One side wanted to run and hide from my nightmares but my other side wanted to act normal and not cause attention. And running and hiding did seem an attention-seeking action.

I turned into the hotel car park, surprised I was there already. I had been so engrossed with my problems I had barely known where my car was taking me. But driving was routine and my hands automatically knew the way.

I parked my car in one of the three spaces the hotel provided. Some car park. Scrambling for my keys in my pocket, I walked towards the doors of the car park. The same receptionist from the morning looked at me through dead eyes as I crossed the lobby. God, didn't they ever take shifts? It was starting to creep me out. I walked stiffly to the lift and waited awkwardly. The receptionist was still giving me that dead-eyed look. Suddenly, something flashed through his eyes. A look of understanding, or pity, perhaps. But before I could look more closely, he turned his head and I heard a muffled apology escape his mouth. Truly freaked out, I turned my attention to the arrival of the lift, praying it would come soon.

God must truly be on my side today, because a second later, the silver doors opened, allowing me to scramble in side. Safe from the frightening glare of the receptionist, I turned my thoughts in the direction of other, more important matters. Such as what I was going to do once I turned the lock on my door. Thinking about my apartment made me feel funny. Not sick exactly, just…scared. The fear I could feel was very present at the moment.

I inserted the key into the lock. The door opened and I stepped hesitantly forward, frightened of what lay ahead.

Being the pessimist I was, of course I had let my mind persuade my body that there was a big scary gunman, or whatever, standing behind my door. But my squished, empty flat showed only dusty air had been present during the day. I sighed heavily and dropped my papers on the kitchen bench, not ready to face my room of torture, my bedroom.

I started my report, hating Mr Newton to the deepest pits of Hell. Sometimes, I didn't know why I worked for him. I mean, it was a good pay but surely I could find better? Then I remembered what it took to find even that job and tried to think positive thoughts about my work. Not many members of the Forensic Scientist Establishment **(I made that up!)** wanted to hire a 21-year old as a scientist. They mostly hired freaky, old, grey-haired men who had seen better days. I suppose they didn't trust post-teens anymore. Sad thing was, I can't say I really blame them.

I was halfway through my report when I decided it was time for dinner. I packed away my work and start throwing dinner together. I was never the best cook. Tonight I was making spaghetti bolognaise, I thought. It would keep my mind and hands busy.

I was just mixing the mince for the meatballs when the phone rang. Shit. I quickly washed my hands and dried them with a towel. Grabbing the phone, I pressed the voice button and spoke into it.

"Hello?"

"Bella, you're going to have to trust me."

"What? Who are you? Why should tr-" I was cut off by the voice at the other end speaking angrily.

"Just listen to me. Your apartment is being watched now as we speak. You need to come meet me in the lobby tomorrow at 9:00pm."

"Why?"

"If you value your life, which I think you do, you will."

"But why me?"

"Because of your birth rights-" The voice was broken by an angry exclamation.

"I told you not to say anything but the time to her! No we're really screwed!

"Calm down!" The voice said to whoever was speaking. "I didn't say anything important."

All through this, I was waiting patiently at the other end of the line. I suppose I looked calm but inside I was buzzing. What birth rights?

"Bella, you still there?" The voice suddenly shot at me.

"Yeah?"

"Okay, so please just meet me at the lobby at 9:00om. Please."

"Okay." I said. "I want to know your name. What is it?"

"Edward." With that last, parting word, he hung up. But I barely noticed. I was going to meet my Edward at last.

Suddenly, I could barely wait until tomorrow.


End file.
